Tinder Hearts, Paper Bodies
by SomedayTomorrow
Summary: After the death of his wife, Draco's never treated his son the same. Perhaps Scorpius's new history teacher might be able to help him out a bit.
1. Forwards

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**FORWARDS**

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___Don't they realize  
I have a tinder heart ______  
_

_______And a paper body _

_______And that any spark  
Will turn me straight to ash? _

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**Tinder Hearts, Paper Bodies: A Draco & Hermione Story **

**By: SomedayTomorrow **

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**PLOT SUMMARY:**

After the death of his wife, Draco's never treated his son the same.

Perhaps his son's teacher might be able to help him out a bit.

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**FULL SYNOPSIS**

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**HERMIONE**

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She was Gryffindor's golden girl,

Smart, intelligent, and intuitive.

What others didn't know

Was that late at night,

He would sometimes drink too much,

And hurt her.

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**DRACO**

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His wife died, leaving him

With a son he can't deal with.

With the burden of being a father

Who can't control his magic.

Making him suddenly slip,

Turning from the cool, icy man he once was,

To a coward who hurts his child.

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**HERMIONE**

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Breaking off from him,

And starting a new life at Hogwarts,

She begins to teach,

Even though she cannot perform magic.

She meets a child who resembles

An irritable boy

That she once knew.

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**MALFOY**

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Suddenly, a girl from his past,

Changes his son,

And has the same effect on him as well.

And that's when

He realizes,

There are things

He wants to protect and keep.

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**Note:** _Mild swearing._

© **2012 Jael [SomedayTomorrow]**

_August 2012 - _

All rights reserved.

No part of this fanfic may be used or reproduced in any manner.

Story and plot invented, written, and designed by SomedayTomorrow.

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	2. Chapter 1

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**CHAPTER ONE**

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_Hey girl listen, when you left, your eyes  
drove me crazy, then my collar was  
swept by a kiss lighter than the wind._

**-Hey Ma **

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**Hermione** **thumbed her worn out**, beaten copy of _Hogwarts: A History _in her hand. She'd used the exact same one back when she was studying in Hogwarts, and hadn't bothered purchasing a new one. The coffee-stained pages, along with the numerous bright post-it stickies and messy notes scribbled in the margin were tell-tale signs of her schooling days, and yet, this time she wasn't bringing it as a student, but rather as a teacher. Before first term began, all new teachers were to discuss the general changes in the school curriculum and facilities, especially after Percy was appointed Minister of Magic and had immediately changed most of Hogwarts regulations.

As she sat in Dumbledore's Office (after his death, the name was still affectionately kept, though the head of Hogwarts had become McGonagall's responsibility) she looked around and felt happiness surge through her body. Nothing of Dumbledore's had been replaced or removed, reminding her that Harry's final wish for Hogwarts had been granted. The stoic penisive still stood wisely beside the wall, along with Fawkes' cage, which hung gracefully from the ceiling. Dumbledore's portrait even smiled serenely at her, giving her a little wink, as if he were watching the reunion.

Shivering in anticipation, Hermione brushed at the folds of her coat as she listened intently to the Professor's introduction.

The headmistress looked as vigorous as ever-her thin face and elderly body hadn't sapped away at her joy of teaching, and there was a glow to her cheeks as she spoke confidently and with purpose. Raising her golden goblet as a toast, she sat down, pushing away some stray papers before tapping a silver spoon against her cup. "We will now begin our meeting with an introduction of all new teachers for the semester. Firstly, welcoming Professor Longbottom back after a year's leave for Herbology," the witch said matter-of-factly, gesturing towards a dark-haired boy who had turned slightly red.

Hermione beamed at him, while Neville smiled fondly back.

She gave a small wave to him from across the table, and he grinned as Hermione thought of the excitement and happiness she had for Neville. He'd taken a leave because Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom had awoken, and Hermione even recalled visiting them in St. Mungo's, already chattering about their return to the Auror Department. Of course, Gran was immensely proud of Neville, citing that it was her grandson's clean finish of Voldemort's last horcrux which broke the curse on his parents. Hermione grinned at the thought, clutching her textbook tightly in her hands – if there was anyone who deserved recognition, it was shy but courageous Neville. She was glad that he was finally growing out of his shell and becoming more developed into his surroundings.

"And also, Professor Granger, replacing Professor Binns for History of Magic," Headmistress McGonagall said, with an inkling of pride in her voice.

Hermione stood up from her seat, bowing gently, before sitting down again.

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_"That's Harry Potter's friend, isn't she? The intelligent one who participated in __the battle of Hogwarts?" _

_"Highest ranking witch in the school -shame she's teaching something non-magical, however."_

_"I heard she received nearly all Outstanding Owls during the exams - so why is she stuck teaching history?"_

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Hermione cringed inwardly at the gossip. She knew that her return to Hogwarts would bring about rumors, especially since her specialty had always been with a wand. Everyone knew it just as well as she did, but if they knew the truth, they would shun her from the Wizarding Community. Biting back a terse remark, her eyes widened as Professor McGonagall came to her defence.

"Hogwarts is immensely proud of having one of the bravest Gryffindors to teach history, a fascinating subject in itself. Though it may not require physical magic, who is to say that its purpose is any less important than the other courses available at Hogwarts? I'm confident that Miss Granger will do her best to teach the students here, being one of the most brilliant pupils this school has ever taught. If there are any objections, you are free to say it here – in front of everyone who has agreed to her appearance at Hogwarts," Headmistress McGonagall said harshly, her slight smile from before twisting into an irritated frown. As all the teachers mumbled in embarrassment, and McGonagall acted indifferently, a light blush formed on Hermione's cheeks. "Thank you for giving me this chance, Headmistress McGonagall," she said softly, bowing her head once more in respect. "I will make every effort in teaching my students all that I've learned."

Looking satisfied, Headmistress McGonagall turned her focus to someone else at the table. "Secondly, we'd also like to give a warm welcome towards the latest addition to our staff, who will be teaching for the first time. Joining our faculty is the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Mr – "

However, before Professor McGonagall could properly introduce him, the atmosphere in the room suddenly flared with warmth, and the polished mahogany table erupted into massive flames.

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	3. Chapter 2

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**CHAPTER TWO**

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_I have no regrets, I have none_  
_Don't even think that I'll be waiting for you_  
_I have no lingering attachments, I have none_

**-Voice Message**

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**Numerous surprised shrieks** rang in the air before the red-gold streaks of flame disappeared. Flickering softly, they became obedient to their master, running swiftly back into the palm of someone who sat at the end of the table.

Everyone suddenly grew painfully quiet as all eyes rounded towards the new teacher, whose performance had silenced everyone in the staff room. Hermione noticed Neville from the corner of her eye, touching the mug and itinerary in front of him, which hadn't been scorched by the flame that materialized from the man's hands. In fact, even the table, which was covered earlier in a sea of red, looked exactly as it did before the rip of fire lashed across it. Although Professor McGonagall looked positively livid at the new warlock's arrogance, the mysterious new teacher ignored it, flashing a huge smile at the onlookers and standing abruptly from his seat. Hermione could instantly tell that he was used to attention and that he liked it, which sparked a feeling of curiosity in her. If he wanted fame, he should have become an entertainer – Celestina Warbeck was doing pretty well on the charts lately, which was also the main reason for Mrs. Weasley's current funk. What was he doing here in Hogwarts, as a teacher, no less?

"Zane Ruthers. It's a pleasure to meet you all," the handsome male interrupted.

He abruptly climbed out of his chair with such stealth and grace that barely a sound was created.

When he stood up, she noticed he easily filled a full height of over six feet, which gave him an overpowering, magnificent demeanor. And just as he'd managed to immediately capture Hermione's attention, all at once the talk around her had disappeared and immediately flocked towards him, compliments directed towards his immaculate figure and his looks. With stylishly cut copper hair that was gelled upwards, and smooth, pale skin, he looked like a model out of the most fashionable catwalks in London. His high cheekbones and lanky, lithe frame only did him justice, and it was his eyes-a dark green with light tones of yellow-that entrapped all those around the flashed amiably while his hands moved in slight gestures, his long, spidery fingers only occasionally pausing to tap at the tabletop.

"I'm sure that Severus Snape has been highly respected during his term at Hogwarts, but as we all know, all good things must come to an end. I, however, am here to make sure this won't happen," he said, showing off perfectly straight teeth in an almost smug tone before he took a seat again.

Hermione's eyebrows raised. _How confident, _she said to herself, while the clapping in the room became deafening.

He hadn't even started working at the school yet, but the teachers had immediately taken a liking to him. She wasn't sure, but even Professor Trelawney seemed to be a bit happier than usual-or maybe it was just something good she'd seen in his tea leaves. Clapping absently at his presence, Hermione concentrated on her timetable in her lap, which listed all the classes she'd be in charge of for the year.

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**Day 1, Period 1: Sixth Years**

_Textbook: Ethics 6, The Battle of Hogwarts_

_Witch or Wizard? Did Gender Affect Responsibilities in Wizarding History? Is it still Applicable to Modern Wizardry?_

_Modern and Historic differences of The Triwizard Tournament_

**Day 1, Period 2: First Years**

_Textbook: Ethics 1: What defines Good from Evil?_

_A History of Hogwarts_

_Wands and their Abilities: From Past to Present_

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Her heart thrummed gently as she saw the "First Years" section. Ron and Harry's children were going to enter Hogwarts this year, and as History was a mandatory class, she would possibly be teaching them. The last time she'd seen Harry's children, she was stunned at their resemblance: little Lilly was like Ginny, levelheaded and calm, with the same fiery hair and quick wit. James was amusingly much like Sirius, playful and a daredevil, though he'd taken after Harry's father in terms of appearance. And then there was Albus, who would be entering his first year as a spitting image of Harry with a painfully obvious advantage in terms of eyesight. James had blended into the horde of students easily, as not many had realized he was _the _Harry Potter's son, but Hermione was unsure of whether Albus would have the same luck.

_And as for Ron..._

His children would also be attending. In some of their postcards exchanged between the three friends, she'd found out that he had fraternal twins: Fred and Rose. He described them much like Hermione, quick and intelligent, with nearly the same appearance as his wife: Lavender Brown. She wasn't surprised that after their mutual separation, he'd married Lavender.

Biting her lip, she wasn't even sure if she could muster an attempt at "hi" to his children. "_Hey kids, your father dated me ten years ago! I'll be your teacher for history this year!"_

Sighing, she realized that once she looked up from her timetable, Headmistress McGonagall was already dismissing the meeting. As all the members dispersed and walked out the door, she saw McGonagall slip her a slight smile from the corner of her lip, and she gratefully bowed another time. As she checked her watch, and hastily stuffed her papers into her bag, she realized there was a shadow over her. Looking up, the new teacher was towering over her, his straight, white teeth set into a large grin.

"Zane Ruthers. I'm the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Hermione nodded, but wasn't interested. She'd already heard the introduction he'd given during the meeting; why did she have to sit through a personal one? "Hermione Granger, History teacher," she replied, hoping that her curt manner would dissuade him.

Unfortunately, that only seemed to make him more interested.

"I'm an Animagus." He piped, grinning at her, and Hermione wondered why he was continuing with the dry conversation. Sighing, she pulled her hair into a quick ponytail before looking at him eye-to-eye. "I'm a normal witch," she said cheekily, grabbing her bag from the seat. He only beamed wider, and took it from the chair before her, with extremely, inhumanely fast reflexes. _Weren't his hands just shoved into his pockets before? How could he have taken them out so quickly? _Hermione thought to herself curiously. As he passed it to her with a small flick of his wrist, he kept his eyes trained on hers. The yellow spheres sparkled with mischief and life, and even a hint of danger – danger that Hermione felt would be better to avoid.

_"_I'm a_ dragon Animagus,"_ he said smoothly as Hermione tried to duck away from him.

Hermione paused when she heard him, knowing that Dragon Animagi were extremely rare.

In fact, only those immediately related to royals of the Wizarding community were able to transform into Dragons, and it seemed that Ruthers was one of them. Confident, suave, and strong, now that she thought about it, Zane seemed to be the perfect candidate for a Dragon Animagus, as Animagi were determined by the personality of the shifter. His pompous attitude didn't seem to do anything for his Animagi, though-Dragons were supposedly benevolent and humble.

_Definitely not flashy, proud animals that bothered plain witches like her. _

Wondering why he would tell her this out of the blue, she suddenly let out a shrill cry as the gentleman in front of her unleashed his full, hunkering animal form. A beast dark as night, all vicious claws and sharp talons, materialized in front of her with a ferocious snarl. His back was laced with sharp, long spines that swam in a crosshatch pattern on his back, and his scales gleamed menacingly from the dim corridor light. The very inside of his transparent, finlike wings was opaque, laced with venomous hues of midnight purple. As she stared at him in disbelief, the only way she could discern that this was Zane and not just a magic trick was from his eyes, large and slitted, the green blending in with the yellow to create a unique, startling kaleidoscope.

All of a sudden, the monster opened his mouth to scream, making Hermione flinch but stand her ground.

"Dragons have a great sense of smell," he said, in a booming, unnatural voice, baring his sharp, sparkling fangs. Slightly fearful and extremely uncomfortable in this situation, Hermione gave a terse smile and tried to leave, but he pushed her against the wall with one large paw, smirking.

"And do you know what our greatest power is, Miss Granger?" He said, threateningly.

"What is it?" Hermione snapped, proud of sounding a lot braver than she felt. She swore she could feel herself shake.

"Dragons can sense magic, sweetheart. So why can't I sense any coming from you, Granger?"

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	4. Chapter 3

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**CHAPTER THREE **

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_Even sleeping pills won't give me my dreams._  
_Thinking of you, day and night change quick._  
_Walking around at night drunkenly, I keep struggling._

**-Sick Enough to Die **

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_"Scorpius."_

**Draco looked at the little boy with distaste.** His light blond hair glinted in the sunlight, his mussed bangs brushing his pale forehead. Though Draco had always received compliments for the resemblance of his eyes being like the ocean, he knew that the real ocean was in his son's. Those stormy, grey orbs sent furious bursts of electricity whenever they met others, like rolling thunder across the expanse of the seas. Sometimes, when they were angry, they turned black as coals, like a typhoon ready to strike at others. They far more accurately represented the temperamental, mysterious seas than Draco's, which were the color of brittle, fragile sea glass. As Scorpius's lips parted into a snarl, his father stepped closer to him, making him arch a tawny eyebrow not from fear but in rebellion.

_"Father,"_

the boy sniped, brushing tidily at the sleeve of his emerald cashmere sweater. He was sitting in a cross-legged position on the Malfoy library floor, flipping the pages of a book nonchalantly. Malfoy shot a venomous glare at his uncaring demeanor silently before he spoke.

"I told you to take care of your wand better. When it breaks, you'll have nothing to protect yourself with." Fingering the magical weapon gently in his hands, Draco hit it softly against his palm, in an authoritative manner.

"Who says that I need magic to protect myself?"

Draco felt heat began to sear through him at his son's remark. _Bloody hell._ It had been like this for nearly half a year between father and son - Draco just couldn't seem to get any connection with his eleven-year-old, whom he felt was much too mature for his age. After the death of Astoria, he had turned from a sunny, intelligent child into a dark monster, exactly what Draco realized that he'd been when he was younger. Neglected by his parents and unable to discern right from wrong, this was the last thing Draco wanted - _his biggest fear for Scorpiu_s - and yet he couldn't seem to do anything for him.

"You're going to be enrolled in Hogwarts this year and you _must _have your wand with you at all times. You won't be just using magic to protect yourself-you're going to learn how to harness it and control it to your will, so that it doesn't turn against you. If you don't use it, someone else will learn to abuse it to their power."

"Who ever said I was going to Hogwarts?" The boy responded cheekily. "You never even asked whether I wanted to."

"Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy-"

"Magic sure as hell didn't save mother. Magic sure as hell didn't make you give a damn whether or not she lived. Because in the end, you chose to kill her."

Scorpius's eyes blazed with fire, all directed as his father. The worst thing was that Malfoy could understand the boy's feelings - the hate and the agony that entered him as the last breath of Astoria exited from her. He knew that making the decision to take her off life support in front of Scorpius was unbearable for the child, but Malfoy wanted Scorpius to face reality. He didn't want him to be scared, and weak, just like he was; always having to rely on others for support. One day he would have to grow up, and Malfoy preferred letting his son face the brutality of death first-hand instead of trying to run away from the situation. "Would you rather her live longer, neither dead nor alive, but comatose? Would you want her to suffer for the rest of her life, because of your own selfishness?" Malfoy knew his argument was cruel, but he didn't want to continue the conversation. He himself hadn't dealt with his wife's death yet – instead, he'd pushed it to the back of his mind, pretending as if she was still out there somewhere, as if she were merely gone for an extended vacation. And he couldn't explain that to Scorpius, who expected him to be courageous, strong, and fearless – who expected him to be a good father.

_Who expected him to be able to take on everything. _

"How can you say that so calmly? You're so emotionless to her – it's like you never even cared for her. Is that how you're going to treat me as well, father? Like nothing?"

Flashes of red met Draco's eyes as Scorpius said the words aloud. Brandishing his own wand from his pockets, he pointed it at his son.

"_Petrificus Totalus." _

His son stood stock still, entrapped by the strong body-bind curse that Draco had set upon him. As soon as he'd done it, Draco regretted it and felt himself shaking. He'd let his anger escape him again, and felt a wave of panic as he said the counter-curse immediately. This wasn't the first time Draco had used magic against his son, but every time it happened, it was always out of anger. He felt guilty for it, but at the same time, an icy pride crept up his spine, knowing that his son needed to be put in place. He didn't understand anything. He didn't understand all the decisions Draco had to make, how he felt when he watched his wife lying there, listless. He didn't understand that his wife had an affair years ago, leaving him in the dust.

_And Draco had only known about it after she was dead. _

"Don't ever tell me you don't need magic again."

Turning around abruptly, he strode out of the room, throwing the wand on the carpet. Leaving a vengeful Scorpius in the library, the child's eyes burned. As he picked his wand from the carpet, he gripped it tightly his hands, and bit his cheek in anger.

"I will get you back someday, father," the boy whispered into the empty gloom of the library.

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	5. Chapter 4

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**CHAPTER FOUR**

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_I just endlessly cry, I just endlessly get sad  
I wish I could turn back time. _

**-Aftermath **

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**Scorpius grasped his trunk tightly,** staring at the cherry-red train which sat monstrously on the tracks. Feeling forced to step into the station, especially after his father had used magic against him last night, he sighed as he felt his father touch his shoulder. Rolling his eyes as he realized his father was using the same hand he'd laid on him to comfort him, he took view of his surroundings and tried to wrench his shoulder free from his grasp. An old, somewhat faded sign hanging from the ceiling stated that this was _Platform 9 3/4, _so Scorpious knew that he wasn't at the wrong place. And yet he felt utterly lost and lonely as he prepared himself to go abroad. Watching the other first years chatter and laugh with anticipation to their parents, a sick feeling of jealousy rubbed on to him, clinging tightly on to him. As he overheard a child crying to his mother, who wrapped him in a tight hug, he felt his heart clench with frustration and longing. While his hands searched for something to hit, he decided to settle with silently fiddling his robes, which felt extremely large and swamped his tall, skinny frame. Breathing out a sigh of freedom, he took one last look at his emotionless father, and tipped his head in goodbye. "I'll be leaving then."

"Make sure you get into Slytherin." His father barely looked at him, instead checking the watch on his hand.

_Brains, not brawns. _How many times had his father said that to him? How many times had he threated to disown him if he wasn't a Slytherin?

"Funny how Harry Potter saved everyone, and yet he's a Gryffindor," Scorpious muttered under his breath disagreeably. Draco only ignored his snide comment, letting it pass. "Make sure to visit on Christmas Break," he only said, his blue eyes trailing the back of his son. Though he was attempting to be "fatherly" towards his child, Scorpius gave a half-hearted, uncaring smile, wanting to let him know that his attempt wasn't enough.

"Yes, father. Now may I leave?" He said tersely.

His father nodded, giving him a small pat on the back. Frowning, Scorpius turned away immediately, trying to still himself from making a break for it. Handing his ticket to the uniformed concierge, he stepped into the train and found a car which was left alone, save for a petite, red-headed girl buried into her book. A splattering of freckles was dotted on her face, and her strange, light green eyes scanned the pages intuitively. As she swung her legs gently, she looked up but didn't say a word when the blond Malfoy stepped in.

_Perfect. _

This seemed quiet enough, and the girl was most likely harmless, anyways.

Swinging his trunk over on to the rack above his head, he settled down, sitting across from her. He noticed that in the car beside them, a cluster of schoolchildren were snickering and pointing at him. He frowned until he saw that they were staring at the girl and laughing. "Rose Weasley, huh? Their family's so huge, they must be sharing their home with magical creatures too. I wouldn't be surprised if they housed owls either - those things could probably live in that nest on her head!"

Scorpius frowned as he heard the remarks.

"Bright green eyes can only belong to black cats, and you know that black cats always bring disasters," another cackled.

Rolling his eyes, Scorpius slammed the car door shut and pulled at the curtains. When the girl ("Rose," he supposed) looked at him, he snarled. "Their whiny voices make me unable to concentrate." Quickly glancing away, the girl went back to her book, and a satisfied Scorpius looked out of the large window. A hint of a smile fell across his face when he saw his father chasing after the moving train, which shuddered and clamoured on the track. Grinning, he gave a small wave, ignoring the elder Malfoy's angry shout, even though the red-haired girl was staring at him strangely again.

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Draco watched Scorpius go on the train, sighing when he saw the boy enter the car with a trademark Weasley sitting in it. She was obviously Ron and Granger's child-the girl was nearly a carbon copy of her father, and everyone suspected, if not knew, that Hermione and Ron were going to marry after the Battle of Hogwarts. As he glanced at their daughter one more time, a flash of curiosity flickered through him, and he suddenly wondered what Hermione looked like. As if on instinct at the thought, he rubbed his cheek, a reminder of what had happened during Year Three.

_No woman had ever done that to him before, _that was for sure. Though she was a mudblood, he grudgingly admitted that it seemed as if she had greater guts than some of the squeaky females in Slytherin.

Shaking his head, and deciding to turn back to the Malfoy Manor, Draco brushed back a stray hair as he mulled in his thoughts. It was so hard to raise a child on his own, as Astoria had always been the one who was fondest of Scorpius. Draco knew how to work, that was for sure, being intelligent and a whiz when it came to business. He was confident in everything that had to do with making money, but when it came to raising such a stubborn son, he was hopeless. Showing affection, holding him, being a role model as a parent – that was always Astoria's job, and she'd done it well. Perhaps a little too well, because eventually she'd found someone else.

_And he'd only found out after she'd died. _

He knew he couldn't tell Scorpius - it would break the child's heart, which was so attached to his mother. But as the days passed, it grew harder and harder to avoid the topic. Sometimes, he could feel the truth slipping off of his tongue, before he caught it and stuffed it down his throat. Sighing heavily, he could feel a lump in his throat as he tucked his hands into his pockets, a habit he'd taken to when he mulled over his thoughts. It made him feel stable, like an anchor that held him to the world when he felt like he was going to fly away from it. Burrowing his fingers deeper into the worn fabric of his robes, his eyes widened as he felt something deep in his pockets.

Something thin, gnarled, and wooden.

Rubbing his thumb over the worn out, imperfect surface, his mind raced as he realized what had happened before he took it out. Staring at the red vehicle which was now a blur, he let out a roar of anger as he saw the car veer away on its tracks, too fast for him to catch up. Chasing after the train, and getting angrier as he saw his son's snide smirk (it was almost like Draco's when he was a child, _really)_ he fell out of breath and groaned.

"The little brat left his wand, _damn it!"_

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	6. Chapter 5

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**CHAPTER FIVE**

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_Something in a dream, the dream we drew out together  
It fades away and becomes dust, crumbles apart and scatters. _

**-S.A.D (Something In A Dream) **

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_"Let. Me. Go."_ Hermione said through clenched teeth.

**Zane instantly turned back into his human form,** which she eyed suspiciously. He was back to the tall, good-looking, clean-shaven teacher with the unique eyes, but she was still aware of how dangerous he was as the beast. Indignantly, she peeled his fingers off of her shoulder, tossing her ponytail behind her as confidently as possible. "I'm not sure exactly how accurate your power is, Mr. Ruthers, but I'm a full-fledged graduate of Hogwarts. If you're saying that I, a proper witch, can't perform magic, then what can, _sir?" _She said airily, looking at him with steely eyes. "Dragons, I suppose?" She retorted with venom in her voice.

He smirked, tucking the wand that had fallen on to the ground into his back pocket.

"Confident, aren't you. I've heard about how great and clever the wonderful Hermione Granger is. Booksmart and intelligent, you were Head Girl in Year 7 along with Ron Weasley. Being one of Harry Potter's most trusted advocates doesn't hurt either…

But what a surprise - you know, the fact that you can't control magic."

She wanted to wipe the annoying smirk that was stretched across his face. She'd thought of him as decent albeit a tad cocky to her liking, and at this moment all she felt like doing was hexing off the smile from his face. Wishing she could propel all the jinxes in her mind at once, she remembered that she hadn't felt this cross with someone other than Malfoy. Sighing, she looked him firmly in the eye, acting more confident than what she really felt at the moment. "Mr. Ruthers, it's been a pleasure to meet you. However, it seems as if you haven't been acquainted with the rules quite yet, and so I'll have to tell you right now. In Hogwarts, every teacher is allowed his or her confidentiality. If the headmistress has allowed the rights of a teacher to be teaching at Hogwarts, then the whole school allows the teacher privilege in this school.

And so, Mr. Ruthers, not even you will be able to change that."

Turning away from him abruptly, Hermione walked away, leaving a very entertained dragon behind her.

_That girl sure is something, _Zane thought as he laughed, his hands still tingling from touching her.

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**x**

Brushing off her robes and hoping that the damn dragon hadn't mussed them up, Hermione undid her hair from its ponytail, feeling rage creep up her cheeks. It hadn't managed to get straighter as she'd grown older, but they'd gradually shifted into a richer auburn instead of the mousy dishwater curls she'd had when she was younger. Although her face, clear and bright, radiated energy, she was still deterred by the encounter she had with Zane - because everyone single word he'd said was right._ She was incapable._ A witch was known for her ability to perform magic, and Hermione had passed with flying colors in Hogwarts because of her talents. But now that they were gone, she was rendered worthless. The headmistress had allowed her some free reign, and knew of her situation, but Hermione still felt weak without her magical ability.

_And it had all begun during the time she was together with Ron._

Although she didn't regret dating him, she felt somewhat bitter that her fear towards magic had stemmed from their relationship. Hermione thought that after defeating Voldemort, they would receive their happy-ever-after; although now, she knew she was foolish to think of it. She thought that they would be happily married, with a couple kids, but things had turned out differently.

_Ron had never fully gotten over Fred's death_.

Hermione realized this early into the start of their relationship - his eyes were often cold although his smile was warm. And at first, Hermione ignored it, hoping that she could save him, that she could change him to think differently. Instead, her attempts at intervention often turned into late-night bouts of anger, with her crying in bed and him not coming back for days. She began to see empty bottles of vodka and alcohol stashed in his closet and bedroom, and whenever he spoke to her, his mouth would twitch slightly, revealing his frequent lies.

But sometimes, just sometimes - a flash of the Ron she knew in high school - the Ron that never stopped trying, who was quick to make her laugh, who made her feel - would come back. And that was why she kept returning to him, kept trying to convince him, that she still loved him.

_Even when he brought his wand upon her. _

**x**

**x**

Walking out into the front courtyard, Hermione scanned the front doors of Hogwarts, and smiled as she noticed the scared-looking first-years entering the castle. She grinned even wider when she noticed a massive figure shouting at the children, his beard tangled with a few strands of grass and leaves. Hagrid had been busy making some repairs to the Forbidden Forest, which was the reason behind his absence during the meeting, and why she hadn't been able to greet him. Breaking into a run, she was about to yell to catch Hagrid's attention, when she crashed into a hard, muscular body.

Books flew into the air as strong arms caught her, and she froze as her face grew hot with embarrassment.

_Second time today I've been caught by someone, _she said to herself, feeling pathetic.

"I'm so sorry!" She immediately cried, lowering her head and hoping that whoever just crashed into her couldn't see her mortified expression. Bending down to grab her books, which had toppled from her arms as she bumped into the man, she hastily jammed them into her satchel. As she brushed off the dirt from her hardcovers, she glanced around the ground to see if anything else had been dropped, and saw a slim, wooden object nearby. Noticing that the man dropped his wand, she gingerly picked it up and clenched her teeth, cursing herself for being so scatterbrained.

"Your wand, sir - " She began, until she saw who she'd bumped into.

Her mouth dropped open, and she felt herself tense. _The hell was he doing here? _

"I see that you're still clumsy as ever, Granger," The masculine voice said, his mouth twisting into an arrogant smirk.

**x**

**x**

* * *

**x**

**x**


End file.
